Where Are You
by blondechica1987
Summary: While Joe's on a mission for the government, Stephanie finds out she's pregnant and has to find a way to revert back to her ways as a badass assassin. Red Parrot, Breasty McGee, and Crubby Marzetti also star.
1. Chapter 1

hiya, my name is leslie and this is myf irst ever fanffic story! hope you enjoy it coz it was alot of fun to write! to my friends dana and sal hey grrls! lol. anywayz so here is my first fanfic story and its called WHERE ARE YOU and its really good so plz r/r and show me looooove k? oh and book 12never happened k?

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WHERE ARE YOU CHAPETER ONE

My name is Stephanie Plum and I am quting my job. I use to be a bounty hunter working for my cousen vinnie but things went south when a crazy named Constintine Stivo tried to kill me. I now work for a dark and misterious man named Ranger who kills people for a living...maybe.  
Ranger walked into the office and Stephanie sat in front of his desk. She nervusly taped her foot on the desk a letter of resgination in her hand.

"Babe" he said.

"ranger... I think...I'm sorry...but i quit"

I brushed my beutiful long dark curls away from my face as ranger stared at me. my oceanlike blue eyes stared into his dark misterious ones. 'you cant quit babe" Ranger said

"I think I can Ranger" steaphanie said

"You cant quit. you work for me i own you babe" Ranger said

"dont flatter yourself. you dont own me. I am my own person and i do as Ii please. and that means i quit" I said  
Rangers eyes were scary and mean. i didnt like him when he was made. he slammed his hands on his desk and stood pinning me to the wall. he whispered i've got you under contract stephanie you can not quit me"

his hands were hurting my arms coz he was holding me so tight against the wall. "your hurting me ranger. let me go" I said

'im not letting you go back to morelli babe' ranger said

"Ranger you cant do this you want hurt me. just ...let...me...go' I said

"stephanie not until you tell me why your quitting" ranger said

"this isnt right for me. I need to be freer...i need a life withn o death and crazyies...i need to be me." i whispered so softly, i felt a tear slip down my check.

ranger snorted and snort and backed away fromt he desk. i thought you were done with the berg babe" he said "so now you want to be a housewive is that it" he said

'i need love and compasion and a man that wants me for more then m y body. your not that man ranger" I said

Ranger shook his head threw all the stuff from his dedsk onto the floor. 'you are crazy ranger. i dont wanna see you evar again!1" i said

"leave babe" ranger was yelling at her "get out just go away"

I walked way from the wall feeling brusises formed on my arm from his hands. i stopped at the door my head dropping. feelling sad i truned towards ranger. "be happy ranger please you are more then this man"

i left rangerman and got into my porche. It suit me it is sleek and sexy and what a berg girl should drive. i was happy and sad that ranger and i are no longr freinds but he is not my man. my man is dark and hot and a trenton cop.

i smiled and sung a song by jessica simpson. a awesome song. (a/n: the song is to wher eyou are and its REALLLY GOOD. it reminds me alot of joe and steph lol.

There are times   
I swear I know you're here   
When I forget about my fears   
Feeling you my dear   
Watchin over me   
And my hope seeks   
What the future will bring   
When you wrap me in your wings   
And take me:  
Where you are   
Where you and I will breathe together   
Once again   
We'll be dancing in the moonlight   
Just like we used to do   
And you'll be smilin back at me   
Only then will I be free   
When I can be Where you are

i sang the song with my heart wanting to see joe. i remember how joe's hands felt against my sking. gentle and sweat. i parked the porche in my garage at joes house and took bob out to pee and poopl when he was done we went inside mine and joes house and looked at the note tapled to the refridgerader door

DEAR CUPCAKE...I LOVE YOU...BUT I WILL NOT BE ANOTHER MAN...YOU DONT KNOW THIS BUT I ALSO WORK FOR THE GOVERMENT AND THEY AKSED ME TO DO A JOB FOR THEM AND I SAID YES...I PROBALLY WONT SEE YOU AGAIN...BE HAPPY...STAY AWAY FROM RANGER HES NO GOOD HE WILL ONLY HURT YOU CUPCAKE...LOVE JOE

my heart pounded and the sobs escapd my throat. i felt a warm trikle on my hand, realizing it was my tears. joe was gone and i would probally never see him agian. oh my god. he didnt even kno i was PREGNANT!

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oaky this is my first fic plz rr...15 revues for next ch.

THX!

xoxo blondechica1987


	2. Chapter 2

Hi guys! Thx for allthe support im having alot of fun writting this fic I think you guys are gone to LOOOOOVE IT! Thank U Southerngirl for your adivce! It helped me a whole lot! Remember to r/r, k? xoxo leslie 

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WHERE ARE YOU?

CHAPTER TWO

Stephanie was on the floor of hers and Joe's house staring into space, drooling on herself.

Mary Jane came in and shut the door. "Steph, what are you doing on the floor?"

I looked at Mary jane and felt tears stinging my eyes.

"Joe's gone and I'm afraid he's dead. He left a note tapled to the refriggerator."

"Oh, Stephie, I'm so sorry. What are you and the baby going to do?"

I stared at Mary Jane. How did she know? I hadn't told her. I hadn't even taken a test yet. But I guess women know those things.

"How did you know about the baby?" I asked her.

"You have that GLOW. Every women has a GLOW when their pregnant. It makes you look beatifuil."

I smiled a little but not much. I was still said because I was said that Joe was gone.

Mary Jane followed me into the bathroom. "Stephanie, we should go to LUST tonight and have a Girls Nite Out it'll cheer you up."

"OK."

Mary Jane threw me in the shower and I felt against the walls and cried the last tears I had. Joe was gone but he would come back to me because he loved me and I loved him. We were going to be a family! I used Joe's soap so I would smell like him, got out of the shower, and dressed in a pair of tight leather pants and a shirt with a glittery butterfly on it. The butterfly was blue and gold and brought out the color in my beatifuil sapphire eyes.

I outlighnd my eyes in black eyeligner to make my big eyes bigger and uses sinfully hot red on my lips. Mary Jane was dressed in a tight black minidress with 4-inch FMPs that went up to her knee. "Lookin' hot Mama!" she said. I laughed for the fist time in weeks.

There was a line at the club but of course we got in ahead of everyone else. We got a seat at one of the tables and ordered. The watier brought us our molotov cocktales and we both took a drink. They tasted like peppermint and burned all the way down.

"Let's dance, Steph," said Mary Jane. "Come on, it'll be fun."

"Ok."

Stephanie and Mary Jane danced together. They moved their bodies together slow and seducitively...hot men kept tryng to cut in and dance with Stephanie but she always said no.

"That guy is looking at you," said Mary Jane. "He's hot. Sexy."

Mary Jane motioned him over.

"Hi. My name is Derik. Would you like to dance?"

I turned to Mary Jane and she winked at me. Derik took my hand and took me to the middle of the dane flore. Disco Duck came on, and Derik and I did the hustle. "Just so you know," I told him, "I have a boyfriend. In fact, we're getting married."

"You aren't wearing a ring, so I don't think it really matter, does it Stephie?"

I stopped dancing, and glared at Derik. He stopped dancing, too, and looked at me, waiting for em to respond.

"Just because I'm not wearing a ring doesn't mean I'm not engaged in my heart."

Hey, baby, i just want to dance is all. You don't need to have a bitch fit, so why don't you turn that pretty ass of your's around and let's do some bump and grind."

I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, Derik had been thrown across the room and into the barr. I had my mouth open, staring wide-eyed at the display, and turned around to see Ranger. His fists were clinched and his eyes were narrowed on me. "Babe," he said.

I narrowed my eyes. "Ranger," I hissed. "What are you doing here?"

He took a step towards me, his leather pants hugging his thighs, the white tank-top contrasting with his dark complextion. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to a dark coroner. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

"That is really none of your concern."

"Oh, but I think it is, Babe."

I rolled my eyes and tried to walk away, but Ranger grabbed me by the shoulders and slammed me back against the wall.

"Jesus Christ," I said to him. "Will you get a grip? You're acting like a real asshole."

"And you're acting like a real bitch."

I struggled against his grip and it wasn't going to work. He chuckled as he lowered his mouth to my neck, his teeth tugging on the flesh.

I closed my eyes and leaned into him for a moment. Then reality hit. What was I doing? I was drunk, and Ranger was taking advantage... just like always.

I put my hands on Ranger's chest and pushed him away.

"You can't do that," I said to Ranger. "You're not allowed. And if you try it again, we can't be friends anymore."

Again, he stepped into me. Placing a hand on either side of my face, he leaned in, "Who said I wanted to be friends? Maybe I want something more." I narrowed my eyes as I felt the length of his body press into me, the reminder of what he wanted hard against my stomach.

"Get a doll," I told him. "Hire a hooker. Go jerk off in the shower. I don't care what you do, as long as you do it far, far away from me."

He jerked away from me, his eyes narrowed. "Remember," He started. "You owe me, Babe."

He gave me one more look and turned away from me, his back receding into the crowd.

"I owe you shit!" I screamed. Ranger stopped, but didn't turn around. "We had a deal, and against my better judgment, I made good on it. No matter how hard you push, or how hard you try to scare me into sleeping with you again, I'm not going to make the same mistake twice."

I walked back to our table and in a gulp finished my Molotov Cocktail. The burning sensation felt like a cleanser, erasing Ranger's touch from my body. I scanned the crowed for Mary Jane. It was getting late, the crowd was getting younger, the space more compact. I spotted her dancing with a guy at the edge of the dance floor. The music shifted to a slow song, and he wrapped his arms low around her waste. At least one of us was having a good time.

I was tired. The drinking and confrontation with Ranger had exhausted my will to party. I grabbed my purse and began to head for the front entrance.

Ranger was behind me. I could tell by the way the little hairs on my neck stood on end. It was the same feeling I got whenever I was too closet o a homicidal maniac.

"Need a ride?" Ranger asked.

"No. I can manage."

"Suit yourself."

Ranger walked back to the bar and ordered a shot of something. He glanced over at me, downed his drink, and signaled for another. Probalbly alcohol. I continued to watch as Ranger ordered three additional shots. It had become ceremonial. The shot would be poured, he would turn, toast me and throw his head back and empty the glass. I was disgusted and turned towards the parking lot.

"Hey, Steph, wait up!" Mary Jane jogged over to me in her six-inch-high heels. "I've been looking all over for you. You're leaving?"

"Yes. It's getting a little hot in there."

Mary Jane smiled. "Hormones," she said. "They don't call it having bun in the oven for nothing, you know. Maybe you should get some air while I tell Danny we're leaving."

"No. Stay with Danny. I'll call a cab."

"OK, Steph," Mary Jane said. "But it's four o'clock in the morning. Are you sure you want to be riding around town with a strange man. Why don't you ask Ranger to give you a ride home?"

"I was thinking about calling Lulu, but Ranger is here." I turned and looked back into the bar, Ranger was still seated. He began to laugh as he took a shot out of a pair of blonde double-D's.

I put my fingers to my mouth and whistled. "Hey, Ranger!" I yelled. His shoulders slumped and his head swiveled around to face me. I crocked my finger in a "come here" gesture and waited for him to approach me.

I watched as he threw a few bills on the bar top, pat the blonde's ass and swagger towards me. "Babe," He smiled. "I knew you couldn't resist this."

"I need a ride."

Ranger's eyes darkened and a small smile crossed his mouth. "I've got something you can ride," he said.

"Fuck it. I'll call a cab, last thing I need tonight is to be molested by you, again."

Ranger growled and tightened his ponytail. "This is bullshit," he said. "You're nothing but a fucking cocktease. You waltz in here, wearing your little 'come fuck me' dress, and then you complain when guys hit on you. If you ask me, Morelli had the right idea. If it'd been me, I would've gotten the hell away from you, too."

Ranger stormed off back into the club, and came out a few moments later with the blonde. They both got in his truck, and he screeched out of the lot, swerving a little, and then straigting up again. I looked around for Mary Jane, but didn't see her anywhere. I guess she'd already left with Danny. It was too late to call anybody ad my mouse was only about ten miles away. Nothing else to do but start walking.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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remeber to r/r!


	3. Chapter 3

I had been walking for over an hour. I was tired and my feet were raw from blisters. Stupid fucking shoes. I kicked them off and tossed them in the dumpster, and then walked barefooted to the convenience store so I could use there bathroom. 

I passed the counter. A watched the man behind the counter. He was small and dark-skinned. He being to squeal in my direction, "No shoes! No service! No bathroom!"

"Cool it Habib. I'll buy a pack of gum."

"You good customer," Habib said with a smile. "Here key. Lock up when you done."

I took the key and walked to the bathroom at the back of the store. I spread out a bunch of toilet pwper on the seat and hovered over the hole while I did my business so I didn't get all germy. Then I bought a pack of gum and went back outside.

I stood on the edge of the parking lot. My feet ached and I still had nine miles to go. I sighed and took out my cell phone; three am. Everyone was asleep and Ranger had driven away into the night. However, damnit, I was a Jersey Girl and a Jersey Girl knows how to work a street. I slide my leather skirt up my thigh and angled by leg, I'd be home in no time.

A car slowed to a stop beside me. It was a nice car. Spensive. And the guy behind the wheel wasn't too bad looking, either.

"Let me guess," the guy said, "your boyfriend took off with a blonde and left you stranded."

He smiled. I knew he was joking but it was weird to hear it out loud, since that's exactly what had happened.

"Yes," I said. "Are you psychic?"

The guy cocked his eyebrow and leaned foward, "For you baby, I'll be a Schnauzer." Guy began to laugh and started to "Woo! Woo! Woo!" into the night. I shrugged and opened the door. What should I do? They're all fucking morons. "So, Guy, I'm about ten miles up."

"Name's Rick," the guy said.

"Ooookaaaaaay. Rick, I'm about ten miles up."

He shifted into third gear and pulled out of the parking lot. He looked over at me and yawned and his hand appeared on my thigh.

I threw him a sideways glance. A smile was etched on his face and his finger tightened on my inner thigh. I snorted and brushed off the hand. "Fuck off Ric. I'm not paying for this ride."

"You out standing on the side of the rode at midnight," Rick said. "You think I picked you up coz I'm a nice guy?" He spat into a Styrofoam cup in the cup holder. "I ain't into nice shit. I pick you up coz I thought you a 'ho. You ain't a 'ho, what the hell you doin' out here dressed like one?"

The Jeresy blood started to sizzle. "Jesus. It's like walking around in a leather bodysuit makes me a whore. Well, fuck you Ric. I am neither a hooker nor a prostitute. I can walk the rest of the way, thankyouverymuch." I grabbed the handle of the door and began to pull. A sharp pain began in my scalp as Ric held me back.

"You must be knew at this," he said, one hand still on the searing wheel. "So I'm going to be nice and explain it to you. You suck me off and then I take you home. You win/I win. Got it?"

Rick and put my hand my hand on his forearm. "Ricky, what would I have to do to get you to stop this truck right now? Blowing you would take me home, what if I just bite your goddamn balls off? Would that getcha to stop?"

Rick's eyes grew solid dark. "You got spunk, kid," he said. "Fiesty. Meow."

Stephanie sat with her mouth open, but said nothing.

"What?"

Rick laughed. "I like ya kid. You ain't no 'ho, but whatever. I like ya. So, you shud up, do the jiggle and I won't hurt that fine ass."

"I don't do butt stuff," I said. And I meant it. If he was going to have his way with me, fine. I wouldn't enjoy it, but if it meant I would be alive, I would let him. It was more important to stay alive now, anyway. But I was not going to do butt stuff. Not with Joe and not with this guy and certainly not with Rainger.

"I ain't asking for no butt stuff sweetheat. Just some little squiggy on John Thursday here. Now crawl over here like a good girl and light my fire."

Oh my god, how the shit was I going to get out of this?

Rick had a handle on my arm and started to pull me over to him. I struggled some but he pulled harder. He let go of my arm and begin to pull on my waist, my body sliding over his. My back was pressed against the stearing wheel and began to ache as I pushed away from him. I tried to use my feet as leverage, to push me farther away, towards his door.

"Get off me!" I said. I screamed and dragged my nails down his face. He screamed and swerved out of the road and hit a tree.

I awoke a few minutes later. The horn was blaring from where my ass was positioned, Rick's face was pale and had a small pencil sized tube sticking out the back of his head. I breathed a sigh of relief to realize I was free from this jerk.

I scrammbled out of the truck from the driver's side and with one last glance yelled, "Adios Rico!"

The car crash had happened a couple blocks from my house. It was still early so Id idnt think there would be any cops around. I walked into the house and crawled in the shower and washed away all the blood and the smell of Ranger. It couldn't stand it. It was creeping me out. I dressed in a sexy pink nighty and crawled into bed and picked up the phone to dial Joe. The number came up disconnected. I remembered the note tapled to the fridge and started crying alot. Normally when shit happened I called Joe and he fixed it for me. Now he was gone and I was sad and I didn't have a clue who to call or what to do.

TO BE CONTINUED.  
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plz r/r!111 xoxo leslie


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter FOUR -- Sex & Candy**

My alarm went off at seven am. I had been asleep for a mere five hours, but between the heavy drinking and social activities from the night before, it felt like three. I puttered out of my bedroom and into the bath. My eyes were bloodshot and my mascara had smudged in the night. I shrugged and headed towards the kitchen.

I started the coffee, checked my messages and buttered my toast. I sat at the counter while the coffee percolated. I had just dozed off again when my cell phone rang.

It was my mother. "Where the hell are you?"

"Home," I grumbled into the phone. I poured a cup of coffee and carried it back upstairs. I collapsed on the bed, phone cradled between my neck and shoulder, slurping the coffee through a bendy straw. "Why?"

"Your Uncle Bernie's looking for you. Sent an owl with a message."

"What's the message?"

My mother sighed. "How the hell should I know? It's written in Morse Code."

I was flummoxed.

"Stephanie? What are you doing?"

"I'm here. I'll be over in an hour to pick up the message."

"What are you involved in? What has Uncle Bernie gotten you into?"

"Nothing, Ma. I'll be over in an hour."

I cradled the phone.

I last saw Uncle Bernie when I was eighteen. I had gone to France to visit and to experience my family's culture. I never expected that I would take my first life then.

It had been a dark and stormy night, and I was on my way home from the Louvre, where I worked as an art buyer, buying art and stuff. A couple years before, Joe and I had gotten together after years and years of waiting, and then he was off to the Navy. I thought he was dead, then, too, because he hadn't called. Little did I know he had just been working a top-secret mission for the government then, too.

Funny how life seems to come full-circle.

I was walking home, back to my apartment overtop my Uncle Bernie's office, when a man dressed in black came up behind me and dragged me into the alley between a McDonalds and the French equivalent to a Kwik-E-Mart. There was little light in the alley, yet the man was strong and hard against my struggling hands. I gripped his shoulders and started to push.

"Get off me, you asshole!"

_--Que est-ce qu'un jeune bébé comme vous marche autour de cette période de nuit? _

"Please, just let me go!"

_--Je ne pense pas ainsi._

I began to sob heavily. Ever since Joe had left, I had felt alone and scared. Now I was struggling with a man in black, he was pushing me against a wall, ready to take my lasting innocence. I kept fighting against him. He cupped my ass and pulled me towards him, his intentions hard against my stomach.

He was kneading my ass when his head slumped against my shoulder. He began to murmur against my neck. All of a sudden, his body was jerked off me and he fell onto the hard pavement. A shadow stood apart from us. The shadow was my savior. I started to sob again, "Thank you, thank you."

The man in black arose from the ground quickly, as an animal, and began to stalk my shadow, approaching so swiftly I barely noticed. I saw the man lift an object and I started. No one would die tonight.

I tackled the man's side and reached for the object. The cool feel in my palm registered that I was trying to take possession of a gun. I quickly kneed the man in his balls and took the gun. As I began to raise it on the man, he fell into me. The lasting sound of an explosion would haunt my memories.

The man and I fell backwards. I scrambled to my feet and looked at the body lying in the alley. The shadow that had saved me. I approached and sucked in a breath.

"No, no, no." I began to repeat. "Rose! Auntie Rose!" Her chest was scarlet and soaked. Her eyes dead and rolled into the back of her head.

I dropped the gun and ran screaming to Uncle Bernie's office. It was late, but he would still be there. I beat on the door until he answered it.

"Christ, _mignonne_," Uncle Bernie said. "You're wet. Shivering. Come inside and warm by the fire."

I nodded and followed Bernie inside. I knew better than to irk him. He tossed his long silver beard over his shoulder and stoked the fire. Then he lit a lantern and secured it on the long hook dangling from the ceiling. The light cast over me, and I heard him say, "Whoa."

"You have to come with me," I told him. "It's Auntie Rose. I think she's--"

Bernie held his hand up and I fell silent. Mental head slap. I'd spoken out of turn… again. Uncle Bernie _hated_ it when I spoke out of turn.

I fell to my knees and held my hands up in surrender. Uncle Bernie seemed pleased with this gesture.

"You're learning," he said as he removed his belt. "This is good. This is muy bien, indeed."

He gave me five lashes across my arms with the belt, and I bit down on my lip so I wouldn't cry. When he was done, Uncle Bernie hanged his belt on the hook next to the lantern and helped me to my feet.

He nodded at me. "You may speak now, _mignonne_."

"_Uncle,"_ I started, but in French. _"I began to walk and found myself in a precarious situation. There was a man and he forced me to--"_

I felt the whip before I could blink. I held back my tears, they were a sign of weakness.

"_Your French is lousy. I can't understand a single word you say. It causes my ears discomfort. You are not to speak unless spoken to. Do you understand French any better than you speak it?" _

"My Uncle, I am sorry for the trouble I know I cause you. I will be better, I will practice, please--"

Once again the whip lashed against me.

"You have killed family. This I know. You have committed a cardinal sin. You will have to pay, _mignonne_. Now get the shovel."

I went to the shed out back and did as I was told. My arms were bleeding, but I somehow managed to work through the pain. Uncle Bernie and I walked back to the alley between the McDonalds and the Kwik-E-Mart de Francais. Uncle Bernie was in front. He took one look at the alley and turned to me. His eyes were wild, like an animals. He grabbed the shovel and hit me hard across the face with it, knocking me into the brick wall.

"She's gone. They've taken her."

I wiped the blood off my face and looked around the alley. No Aunt Rose. She'd disappeared.

"You must take her place," Uncle Bernie said. He handed me the shovel and motioned for me to follow him back to his office. "You will quit your job at the Louvre and start training tomorrow. Only when I find a replacement for Rose will your indentureship be complete."

A week had passed since the night I had involuntarily shot Auntie Rose. After he had cracked my face open with a shovel, Uncle Bernie had very lovingly swathed my gash with peat moss and berries.

"You will learn, _mignonne_. I will fashion you to be stronger and disciplined. I am now your teacher."

I sat there scared for what may happen. I loved my Uncle Bernie. He was a neat guy, but his actions over the course of the last week had been a bit disturbing.

"We will be leaving for Nice in thirty minutes. Pack lightly. The walk is long."

I didn't speak. I simply nodded and began to retrieve my clothes. I rooted through my bags, choosing what would be appropriate -- three-inch silver stilettos? Or my dependable Keds?

I felt the whip lash against my neck as I slid the stilettos into my satchel.

"No, _mignonne_! No Fuck-Me-Pumps! This is not a vacation, this is a trial!"

I sobbed as I replaced my silver sex shoes with the dirty Keds and laced the satchel closed.

"Now we must leave," he said. I wiped a fallen tear from my face and watched as Uncle Bernie dropped his single lantern on the floor. The flame was immediate. "We must leave nothing behind, _mignonne_."

"Yes, Uncle Bernie. Nothing behind."

"And _mignonne_, you must refer to be as Red Parrot from now on. We are of no relation from this moment."

And so we left his office, and my apartment upstairs, and walked East in the direction of Nice. Red Parrot had saddled me up with our belongings piled high on my back. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said the walk would be long. It had taken us over two hours to arrive at our destination, high atop a mountain overlooking a frozen pond. I dropped our packs on the ground and leaned against a tall tree. Red Parrot looked at me and gave the tree a quick karate-chop. It split clean in half.

I stared at him, half expecting him to do the same to me. But his posture was calm, and his eyes didn't have that glimmer of insanity I'd grown accustomed to, so I figured I was safe.

"Did you see how I did that?" Red Parrot asked me. I nodded. "You will learn that today, and also build stairs to the top of this here mountain so my sciatic doesn't act up. But first I'm going to build a temple in the clearing to the north. Go to the lake and bathe while I do this."

"You think I need to be purified for what I've done," I said, more statement than question.

"Nah," Red Parrot said. "I just can't stand the smell."

It was very hard to bathe in a frozen pond. I sat naked on the frozen desolation, rubbing my body against the ice. When my fingers had turned blue, I trembled to the shore. A robe of bright green was lying on the stump of the fallen tree. I quickly donned the robe, thankful of the warmth.

"This robe signifies your identity." I was startled at Red Parrot's voice. He sat behind me, his body straight, his legs locked in lotus position. His ass hung a foot from the ground. "You are no longer Stephanie Plum. You are now lost in the ethos. You are reborn…as _Chartreuse Mongoose!"_

There was a crack of thunder and all the lights went out inside the temple, replaced with the blinding illumination of lightning. Red Parrot let out a burst of maniacal laughter, and my heart caught in my throat. What. The. Fuck?

Red Parrot's laughter died away, as did the thunder. The lights came back on inside the temple, and I was suddenly very glad I hadn't had anything to eat since we left. If bathing on a frozen pond was hard, imagine having to wash human waste out of a robe. _Ew._

"There are four vows an apprentice must take upon entering their study," Red Parrot said. His voice was very, very serious. "These are vows of chastity, obedience, silence, and poverty. Do you agree to adhere to these sacred vows?"

I gulped audibly. Red Parrot rolled yes eyes and sighed.

"_Fine,_" he said. "What about just poverty?"

I scrunched up my nose and thought for a moment. "This is only temporary, right? I mean, as soon as you find a replacement, or whatever--"

"When you have earned your keep, you will no longer be expected to live the life I have chosen for you as my charge."

"Okay," I said, offering my hand for a shake. "Deal."

Red Parrot looked down at my head, mumbled something under his breath, and reached into his robe. He pulled out a red velvet pouch, opened it, and pointed it in my direction.

"Choose carefully, Mongoose," he said. "Your destiny awaits."

I reached in and pulled out an animal cracker. Food. Thank God. I stuck it in my mouth straightaway.

Red Parrot grabbed my head with both his hands and forced my mouth open. I was kicking and screaming. He hit a pressure point on my neck and I fell dead still. I couldn't move anything. Couldn't even breathe. Red Parrot stuck two fingers in my mouth and retrieved the animal cracker with a grimace. Then he touched me just under my left breast, and I sucked in a mouthful of air.

"What the hell did you do that for?" I asked him. "You got a fucking bag of those things. You can't get your own goddamn animal cracker?"

Red Parrot threw me a look and I immediately fell silent. "This is not an animal cracker," he said. "This is your totem."

He held open his hand to show the animal cracker.

"You've touched it," I said. "I don't want it after you've touched it."

Red Parrot shook his head. "This means you are to follow the spiritual path of the Dingo," he said. "Now come, we have work to do."

As Chartreuse Mongoose, I had to follow a spiritual path. I would arise at dawn and bow to the sacred spirit of the Dingo. Red Parrot had trained me to recognize the qualities I would have to adopt. To be swift and independent. To be brutal in execution yet kind in my diplomacy.

Red Parrot did not know mercy, and therefore did not show it. After my prayers to The Dingo, I would be met at the frozen pond where I bathed. I was barefoot when we would start my training, my feet sliding over the icy rock, my hands grasping the bokken.

He would deliver quick blows to my shins, my back and my ass. I would spend most of my time on my back, staring at the grey sky.

"Get up! You are weak and need to be strong! You will arise now, Chartreuse Mongoose! Show your spirit!"

I stood weakly and positioned my stance. He would slice a hi to my hands, the bokken flying towards the bank.

"You are nothing but a little whore! Nothing but a weak pussy that has no strength!"

I was tired and hungry, I wanted to crawl onto my pile of hay on the floor and sleep, but it would not be. Sleep would not come during those seven months. In addition to the beating on the lake, Red Parrot would force me to swim into the ocean, my robe doing nothing to mask the chill that ran through my body.

One night, as Red Parrot sat idly by his fire, he motioned for me to come near. I was cold and shivering, a mustache of frost on my upper lip, my hair frozen stiff. I opened my robe to warm by the fire, and bowed in thanks to Red Parrot for his generosity.

"You have come a long way, Mongoose," he said. "And tomorrow, you will put the skills you've learned to good use."

"What am I to do?"

"There is a lady in Marseilles," Red Parrot said. "Her name is Ramona. We have been communicating for five months now. By carrier pigeon, at first, and then later by AOL Instant Messenger. These past few weeks, we've been holding voice chats while you karate-chop the wood for the fire. Last night we agreed to take the next step. I'll need you to go to Marseilles, find Ramona, and bring her to me. You fulfill this task, and you are free to continue your life of wanton pleasure."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I fought hard not to crack a smile. If there's one thing Red Parrot hated, it was bees. Smiling came second on the list, under the bees.

"You have become an expert dingo-paddler," said Red Parrot. "For this, I am grateful. You must swim across the frozen pond, into the frozen lake, and follow the frozen ocean to Marseilles. Ramona will be waiting for you, dressed as an elf."

I started before the dawn. The morning was chilled. Ice hung heavy from the trees. I began with the pond, astounded that it would still be frozen after seven months, but everything had a surreal quality in these forests.

With my training I had learned to stay powerful on the ice. Swift as the dingo, Red Parrot had told me. As I walked across the familiar lake, I spotted specks of blood--my own blood--from my hard labor.

To the east was a cave that sparkled on the banks. I had not been allowed to explore the cave, for Red Parrot believed it was inhabited by Welsh Monks that would tempt me to drink wine and don French maids' uniforms for their sinful benefit. Apprehensively, I approached the cave, my steps light, so as to not attract attention.

I had almost reached the outer banks when I heard a voice above me.

"You there!"

My head flew towards the voice, "Me, sir?"

"Yes, you. Come closer." I managed a step. "Oh, hurry the fuck up, lady. I haven't got eternity."

I scurried towards the man. He was perched on the top portion of the cave, his ass hanging ten feet in the air.

"You are on a journey, is this correct?"

I nodded.

"In this journey you will meet two figures. A man and a woman. They will offer spiritual greatness that will forever improve your life. They will each ask you a simple question, and if the answer is correct they will offer you a blessing. Do you understand, Mongoose?"

I gasped. "How do you know my name?"

"I know all. Now, do you understand?'

"Yes, but how will I recognize these figures?"

"One will be dressed in all black, a man yet a beast. The other will be made of Styrofoam."

"Uh…"

"Go on, young Mongoose, and follow your heart."

"Cheerio," I said. Then I turned around a high-tailed it the fuck out of the cave.

I was skiing down the Slopes of Eternal Suffering when my cell phone buzzed at my hip. I removed my ski mask, unclipped my phone, and checked the readout. Red Parrot.

"Aye, Sensei," I said into the phone.

"We're out of Charmin," Red Parrot said. "You need to pick a case up on the way."

"Two-ply?"

"With aloe."

I used wolf dung and cherry nectar to create an ink, and inscribed the list onto the smooth side of some willow bark.

"Anything else you need while I'm out?"

Red Parrot was quiet for a moment. "Potato chips would be nice. Salt and vinegar. But make sure they're not too greasy."

"Non-greasy salt and vinegar potato chips. TP with aloe. Got it. Anything else?"

"A slurpee."

"Cherry?"

I felt the mental lashings of his whip on my spine. "Blue raspberry," he said. "Do not fail me, Mongoose!"

And then he hung up.

I had managed to swim the ocean of Despondence and Desperation, ski the rolling Slopes of Eternal Suffering, save the small village of Continual Damnation from the vampiric flying squirrels, and now had one final battle to face: The Amazon Babes from the Vallée de Silicone.

The road leading to the valley was clear. The sun was shiny and the breeze breezy. I had yet to hear a sound or see a single Babe. I crouched behind the brush and organized my belongings -- two pairs of Hanes (Your Way) men's gray jockey shorts, two pairs of leather gloves, three tampons, one tub of Burt's Bees lip balm and a stick. I closed my satchel and sat in lotus, stuck my finger in my mouth, sucked and waved it in the air. The wind was breezy from the North East. I closed my eyes and began to feel my surroundings.

"Halt, fiend! State your name."

_Fuck_.

I slightly turned and felt the jab of a pointy object in my back.

"I am called Chartreuse Mongoose," I replied.

The pointy stick was removed and I heard a feminine chuckle. "Oh, yes, the Mongoose. We have heard of you from our neighboring allies. Anders from Pam has told us of your wild escapade with the vampiric flying squirrels. We are much impressed and have been awaiting your arrival."

"Uh," I said. "You have?"

"Sure," said the Babe. "I am Breasty McGee. You will come with me."

I shrugged and followed the supple lady down the clear road.

We arrived to a small village made up of small huts. The small huts were pressed closely together and each faced a rather large statue in the middle of the village.

I turned to Breasty. "Hey, is that statue--"

"Our goddess and founder, a very powerful Babe--"

"Babe?"

"Yes, that Babe."

"Oh, um, by chance, is that statue made of Styrofoam?"

"Why, yes. Yes it is."

Oh boy.

I followed Breasty into one of the larger small huts. She clicked off the plasma TV over the fireplace and handed me an amulet.

"What's this?"

"Amulet," said Breasty.

"No shit, Sherlock. I mean, why are you giving this to me?"

"It was my mother's. She wore it always."

"Oh, jeez," I said. "I can't take this. It's a family heirloom."

But Breasty was quite adamant.

"You must!" she cried. "It's very important that you do so!"

"Because it will protect me?"

Breasty shook her head and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nah. I tried to sell it last Saturday at our community garage sale, but no one had interest. I'm very big into feng-shui. I don't keep shit lying around. You must take it with you so it doesn't fuck up my aura."

"Of course." I tied the amulet around my neck and gagged. "Smells weird. Um, I know this. Sulfur to cleanse? Garlic to protect? Pig urine to purify?"

Breasty made a face. "My mother, when she died, was not found right away."

_Gak!_

That night, I dined with Breasty and the other Amazon Babes. As the guest of honor, I was allowed first dibs at the suckling pig.

I forked a bite of pig-chop to my mouth and washed it down with some Bud. "So, chicas, let's hear it. What am I doing here?"

The Babes all looked at Breasty. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and cleared her throat. "You are the chosen one," she said. "It is our duty to train you in the art of Papula Impalarus."

My fork fell out of my hand and landed with a clang. "You gotta be shitting me."

Breasty narrowed her eyes on me. "I don't shit," she said. "I never shit. You have a calling. You can either choose to fulfill your destiny or ignore it. The choice is yours.

"You will join us tonight for dancing and much wine. Then, at midnight, when the moon is full yet hidden beneath the clouds, you will visit our Queen. She will give you direction. What happens next is up to you."

My stomach turned as I sat in front of the bonfire. The Babes danced a righteous dance of bouncing breasts and perky butts, chanting to their goddess as they offered their loin cloths to the fire. I tugged my lime green robe tighter around me.

The suckling pig did not sit well with me. For the last seven months I had dined on rabbit droppings and pigeon feathers. I had been in training and needed my potassium.

My stomach turned again and I felt a wave go through my lower intestine. Fucking suckling pig. The Babes may not shit, but I sure as hell do.

As Breasty left my side to wallop with her fellow Babes, I removed myself from my seat and headed into the dense forest. Squatting in a bush, I braced myself against a Birch tree and sighed. This was it.

Once satisfied, I began looking for the most non-poisonous plant with which to cleanse myself, when the hair on my neck stood on end.

"You will never be clean!"

I turned quickly and faced a meager woman with blonde hair and a saggy ass. Her eyes were opaque and staring behind my shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

"You will never be clean!"

She began to laugh, a maniacal laugh that sent me into the Dingo Squatting Jump position.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Placido. I tell you, child, that you will never be clean."

"Are you an oracle? Why do you say this?"

"I am no oracle, child. I am merely an old woman of thirty. However, you are standing in a bunch of poison oak. Your ass it going to be very bumpy tomorrow."

I swore to myself and stood at ease.

"Placido!" Breasty came to my side. "You are not to return here, you were banished!"

Placido began to mutter, "Whores! Fuckers! Cunts! I was your leader!"

Breasty pulled my arm and lead me back to the fire. "She _was_ our leader, until she betrayed us all."

"How so?" I asked.

"Toilet paper. She stuffed." Breasty's face was sad. "She was once my mentor."

"Ah."

"But never mind! It is time for you to meet our goddess."

Breasty lead me to the base of the statue. The dull white began to glow. As the moon moved behind the clouds, the Babes began to chant. I could not move from my position. I was held in a trance. The dull white Styrofoam took a mortal form.

She stood there, busty and blonde. Her lips painted red. Her eyes heavy, like she'd just been thoroughly fucked. "I am called Nicollete de Anna."

I felt myself bow, I kissed her toe ring.

"Now, Mongoose, you have been instructed you would be asked one question. Yes?"

I nodded.

"I have little time. I will ask immediately. Mongoose, if you were in a whorehouse and you couldn't finish completely, would it be permissible to ask for a doggie bag to take the leftovers home?"

"That depends," I said. "Are they serving rabbit?"

Nicollete de Anna sighed. "It's really not that hard."

"Well, can I think about it?" I asked.

"No."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Look, I get to be mortal for four hours. I'm expected in the Valley of Hard Members in twenty minutes. I'm doing this as a favor. Now answer the fucking question."

"Sheesh, okay. Um, I guess the answer is yes."

Nicollete de Anna smiled. "You have answered correctly and now for my free advice." She leaned in and whispered, "I believe in birth, copulation and death. Although copulation embodies the other two, and death is a form of borning. I was born, I died, and today I think I'll copulate."

She leapt off her pedestal, smiled and patted my ass. She began to walk naked down the road, the Babes chanting in her direction.

Breasty walked up to me and handed me a bottle of calamine lotion. "Have you decided, young Mongoose?"

I unscrewed the cap, slathered some lotion on my ass, and nodded. "Teach me," I said to Breasty. "Teach me everything."

I spent six years with the Amazon Babes, learning the arts of fellatio and analkoitus. In order to keep my youthful appearance, I bathed twice a day in the Sacred River of Alpha-Hydroxy, which ran parallel to the Collagen Forest. When it came time for me to leave them, they prepared me for what may lie ahead.

"You have been with us many years," Breasty said as she walked me to the road leading to the Gates of Hefner, "but you must remember: the Vallée de Silicone does not exist on the mortal plane. Though nearly a decade has passed here, you have been missing from the other realm for only twenty-six minutes. Do you understand?"

"Yup."

Breasty smiled. "Well done, Mongoose," she said. "You have but one task left and your transformation will be complete."

I looked at her expectantly.

"You must kill any man with whom you copulated, but did not experience a totally outrageous orgasm."

"That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"Fair is fair."

"What if I just hit them with a car or something?"

Breasty thought about this for a moment. "That will do," she said. "But only if bones are broken."

"Well, yeah."

"Do you know the way to San Jose?"

"Nah," I said. "But I got GPS on my cell phone."

Breasty smiled and embraced me like a sister. "You will be missed, Mongoose. Now on your way, before the tides change."

I followed the road to the Gates of Hefner, caught a bus to San Jose, and flew into Philadelphia. I had the feeling I was forgetting something, but I hadn't a clue what it was. I hadn't had an iron when I lived with Red Parrot, so I was almost certain that wasn't it. In time, that feeling had gone away, and I'd more or less forgotten about the whole damn thing.

I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing.

"Stephanie?"

"Who wants to know?"

"It's your mother."

"Oh. You again."

"I thought you were coming over this morning," she said. "I waited and waited--"

I looked at the clock by the bed. 8:30 PM. Yikes!

"--and waited and waited--"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I guess I spaced out for a while. You ever get the feeling that you were supposed to do something, but you can't remember what it was?"

"--and waited and waited--"

I disconnected and dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I pulled up to my parent's house fifteen minutes later. My mother wasn't waiting for me, but my Grandma Mazur was. She was dressed in purple hot pants with pink polka dots. Her wig was in afro style with butterfly clips placed sporadically.

"New look?" I asked her.

"Sure thing. Lulu took me to her stylist."

I rolled my eyes and walked past her. My father wasn't present, I imagine he was at the lodge playing poker or scoring some smack.

"What were you doing? Where have you been? Why didn't you call?" All from my mother.

"I'm sorry, I had a few errands to run."

"You couldn't have called?"

"Uh, my cell phone died. You had a message for me?"

"Oh, yea. Here."

She took a slip from her apron and shoved it at me. The message was written on tree bark. The smell told me the lettering had been done in camel dung and wild blackberries. The words were foreign. There were a few dots, a few dashes, another dot, then another.

What the fuck?

"Ma, I have to go."

"What does it say?

I turned and looked at her. "I have no idea, but I need to find out."

A picture of the Red Parrot flitted through my mind. I held back a shudder and got into my car. I wound through the Burg, making sure no one was following me, and spat out in front of Ranger's building. I parked underground, took the elevator all the way up to Ranger's apartment, and let myself in.

There was a strained grunting sound coming from the bedroom. Probably he was having a bad dream, I decided. Any minute now he'd be screaming, "NOT THE FICUS! NOT THE FICUS!" Ranger was deathly afraid of house plants.

I dropped my keys on the sideboard and walked through the apartment. The grunting was quickening, becoming more erratic. The bed was banging into the wall. I pulled my katana from the sleeve I'd had sewn into my jacket and stalked toward the bedroom. I peeked around the doorframe and saw Ranger, ass in the air, banging the blonde from the night before. They were in butterfly position, and they were doing it all wrong.

I stepped back and waited in the kitchen. I could tell by the sounds Ranger was making that he was in the throes of vinegar strokes. The blonde let out a squeak, and then all went quiet.

Ranger came out a few moments later. He was wet and droopy, and didn't have a stitch of clothes on. He reached around me and got a bottle of water out of the fridge.

"Do you know Candy?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "Nope. Do you?"

Ranger shrugged. "Only in the Biblical sense."

Candy was dressed when she wobbled into the kitchen.

"Stephanie, Candy. Candy, Stephanie," Ranger said by way of introduction.

"My name's Monica, asshole," Candy said him.

We shook hands, and she left.

Ranger leaned back against the counter and yawned. "Can I do you now?"

I felt my eyebrows disappear into my hairline. "Excuse me?"

Ranger rolled his eyes. "What. Can. I. Do. For. You. Now."

"Oh," I said. "I need you to translate this."

I handed him the tree bark. He studied it for a moment and gave it back to me.

"Babe," he said. "I read _Binary _Code. Not _Morse_ Code. You'll wanna see Crubby about this."

"Crubby?"

"Marzetti," Ranger said. "Works on two. Give me five minutes to lace my shoes and I'll walk you down."

I followed Ranger into his dressing room. He sat on a bench and shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers.

"Um, Ranger?"

"Hold on. I need to concentrate. Fuck. Does the rabbit go around the tree, or under it?"

"Around," I said, "but there's something else."

"Such as?"

"Pants. You need pants."

Ranger looked down and sighed. "Goddamn it all," he said, kicking off his shoes. "I always forget the fucking pants."

Ranger and I rode the elevator together. He snagged an around my shoulder when we reached the fifth floor, and by the fourth, he was cupping a breast.

"Fuck it. I said no. Wasn't Monica enough for you?"

I removed Ranger's hand and dropped it by his side. He cocked an eyebrow. "Who?"

I grunted and the doors opened on two. He made a gesture that I should go before him and I did, hesitantly. He sniggered and slapped my ass.

The second floor was a long line of grey walls and closed doors.

"Crubby's the fifth door down," Ranger said. "The fucker had better be in."

I scrunched my nose and threw a glance towards Ranger. His hands were snug in his cargos and he began to whistle the Andy Griffith Show theme song.

There was no light shining from the fifth office and I worried that I would be stuck with the man in black until Crubby showed.

Ranger pulled a pair of lock picks from his back pockets and began to jimmy the door.

"Um, Ranger? Don't you have a set of keys? You _do_ own the building, you know."

Ranger shrugged. "Meh."

The office was dark and I had been wrong. There was a light, but it was dim. Set in the corner of the fifth office were seven candles, approximately thirteen pictures of Enrique Iglesias and a chanting man.

"Crubby!" shouted Ranger. "Get your ass over here. What have I fucking told you about those damn pictures?"

Crubby sighed, rubbed his stomach and kissed the Enrique picture in front of him. As he turned, my breath caught. He was stunning man. He was six-two, dark haired, the color of burned molasses. His eyes were melt-in-your-mouth chocolate -- the liqueur kind, the ones with booze. He had a narrow-hipped swagger as he walked towards me. He was pretty, but bad. You could just tell he was bad. It might have been the cocky smile or the knife gash through his left eyebrow, or the Michael Jackson glove he wore on his left hand. Whatever it was, it was bad, and I knew it.

He looked me up and down and nodded in appreciation. Ranger cleared his throat and pushed Crubby against the desk.

"Yo, boss! I thought we had this planned for seven with Tank and Cal?"

"We do, but shut up about that for now. This is something else. I need you to translate this for Ms. Plum."

Ranger handed Crubby the bark. He studied the camel dung and narrowed his eyes.

"Listen lady, I don't know what you've gotten yourself into, but I'd be careful."

I could feel Red Parrot's mental lashings against my spine.

"What? What does it say?"

Crubby scrawled the message in English on an electric blue Post-It Note, and tapled it to my forehead. I peeled it off and looked down:

W H E R E T H E F U C K I S M Y T O I L E T P A P E R B I T C H ?


	5. Chapter 6

**chapter SIX -- Rolly Polly Fish Heads**

"Oops."

"What the fuck did you do now?" Ranger lazed against the desk, his arms folded across his chest. He leaned his head on Crubby's shoulder.

"Nothing! That's the problem. Nothing! Oh, shit. Two-ply. I can't believe I forgot the cherries!" I began to hyperventilate.

"Babe, what are you talking about? Cherries? They're good and nutritious, but --"

"Slurpes! The fucking Slurpes!" I began to back out of the door. The last eleven years dissolved. The Mountain of Mish Mashed Resistance whipped lashed against my skull.

_Oh. Shit. I'm so screwed. _

Ranger let go of Crubby's hand and stood. He approached me, his hand trying to capture my arms

I knocked him on his ass.

I ran toward the elevator, pressed the button, and checked my BlackBerry while I waited for the doors to open. I pulled up my buddy list. Red Parrot was online, but idle. I scrolled down and hovered over his name to check his idle time. 6,427,488 minutes. Fuck!

The doors pinged open and I stepped inside. Ranger caught up with me and stuck his arm between the sliding doors.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ!" he screamed. "Aren't these things supposed to open when you have your arm stuck in them?"

"Not if the person inside is pressing the Close button."

"Babe," Ranger said.

I rolled my eyes and let out a bark of laughter. Like I was gonna fall for that one.

"Babe?"

I shook my head. Nope. Still not falling for it.

_"Ba-a-a-abe."_

Fuck it all to hell. I just had to be a sucker for italics, didn't I?

I grunted and released the Close button. The doors swooshed open and Ranger entered. He threw a disgruntled look in my direction and settled into the corner of the elevator.

"Jesus. You know, that's gonna leave a bruise."

"You're a big boy," I said to Ranger. "I think you know how to handle the black and blue bits."

Ranger grimaced. "You didn't have to mention _that night._"

"Sorry."

"I paid you fifty thousand to forget. You don't forget again, I have a little friend that will remind you."

"Oh, Jesus. I said no!"

"I'm not talking about--"

"Ricky?" I finished.

"Fuck me."

"Look, Ranger, I'm sorry. _That night_ will be forever abolished from my memory."

"Damn right it will be."

"Will you fucking listen? I am maybe, probably, most likely going to need to go to France for the weekend."

Ranger rolled his eyes and popped the tab of a Milwaukee's Best. "I'm not lending you my jet," he said. "You can fucking believe that."

I fucking believed it alright. Primarily because…

"You don't _have_ a jet," I said to Ranger.

Ranger looked at me in a _Yeah, I do_ sort of way.

"No," I told him. "You don't. You just made that up."

Ranger shook his head. "Yes, babe."

"No, Ranger."

"I have a jet," Ranger said. And then he opened out his wallet, pulled out a photo of a Citation CJ2+ aircraft, and passed it to me. It looked like it had been taken from the cover of _Flight Instructor_ magazine.

"You have a _picture_ of a jet," I said to him, "not the jet, itself."

"Um, yes. Yes, I do."

I was getting a headache. "No. You. Don't."

Ranger pointed at the picture. "Says 'RangeMan,'" he said proudly.

"It's written in Sharpie, Ranger."

"No, it's not." Ranger's eye twitched. "I own a jet, babe."

I licked my finger and dragged it down the photo, smearing the Sharpied-in RangeMan logo. "Whatever you say."

The elevator doors shimmied open as we reached the ground floor. I removed myself and realized the noxious smell of Ranger's body gel didn't waft after me. I sighed and turned around facing the nearly-closing doors, and briefly caught a glimpse of Ranger huddled in the left corner, gently caressing the smudged magazine photo.

"That deserves a pity fuck," I said to myself.

I turned around and bumped into Tank.

"Tank," I said. "So very nice to see you again. What brings you around these parts?"

"I work here."

_Riiight._

"Uh-huh. Okay," I said. "Gotta go."

I slapped Tank on the ass and piled into my Porsche. I pulled to a stop in front of Giovichinni's and picked up a couple bags of BBQ potato ships, a case of Kleenex Cotonelle, and a carton of Winstons for the trip. I had given up cigarettes when I was nine, but I figured, _What the hell?_

The Porsche ran parallel to the briny sea as I headed towards San Jose. I put the Porsche on auto-pilot and lit up a smoke, and used my BlackBerry to make reservations on the next ferry to France. I printed out the confirmation and leaned back in the seat.

Thank God for Expedia, I thought to myself. We didn't have that millions of years ago.

I gradually awoke to the sound of the Porsche humming happily. The scenery from my window was parched and extremely grim. The Cacti were droopy, the tumbleweeds ran around in circles and the vultures sat idly by a rotting dingo carcass, sighing to themselves.

The Porsche stopped humming _Bye, Bye, Bye _and gurgled, "Destination achieved. May I be of any more assistance to you, Ms. Plum?"

"No thank you, Porsche."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Plum. Thank you for riding with _Highly Advanced with Stupid Technology Incorporated._ Have a great day!"

The Porsche went to sleep, and I grabbed my bag of supplies, stubbed out my cigarette on the dash, and entered the San Jose heat.

I removed my Glock from its holster and stuck it in the waistband of my jeans for easier access. Then I shifted the Beretta I had shoved into my boot, made sure my Sig was still loaded, sharpened my Scorpion Throwing Stars, and slid my katana into the sleeve sewn into my jacket. I looked back at the Porsche and contemplated strapping on the sawed-off I had in the trunk, but that felt like overkill, and I didn't want to look paranoid.

The road was long and covered with dirt. It was a dirt road. By the time I made it to the ticket counter in the middle of the desert, I had a trail of sweat running down my everything. I took the confirmation email I'd printed off my BlackBerry and showed it to the man behind the counter. He peered out from behind his bifocals and inspected my reservation.

"Yes," he said. "You want to go to San Jose."

"We're _in_ San Jose," I said. "I want to go to France."

"Of course. Name?"

"Stephanie Plum."

"Right-O," the man said. "Just give me a sec." He began to click-click-clack on his keyboard. Then he stopped and leaned in. "Nope. Stephanie Plum hasn't checked in yet. You wanna wait here? Her bus leaves in fifteen minutes."

I blinked at him.

_"I_ am Stephanie Plum." I pointed at the printout. "That's _my_ reservation."

"Ah, yes. So it is. But we have no buses arriving in San Jose this hour."

"For fuck's sake," I said. "I'm leaving _from_ here. I have a fucking reservation!"

The man looked at me for a long time. "I see," he said. "Name?"

"Stephanie Motherfucking Plum."

"Right-O," the man said, and he began to click-click-clack on the keyboard again.

My eye was starting to twitch in rhythm to the clacking. I had my hand on my Beretta, index finger tracing the trigger in soft, loving strokes. _Just give me a reason, bitch,_ I dared him in my mind.

The clacking stopped.

"I'm sorry. We don't have a bus arriving in San Jose this hour. Would you care for another destination?"

I closed my eyes and counted to one. "Yes," I said. "I want to go to Russia. Can you get me to Russia? Can you do that?"

Clickety-clack. Fuckety-fuck.

"Got a bus that goes from here to Flagstaff and loads on the ferry to Paris," he said. "You want that?"

I pointed my Glock at his head and removed the safety.

"Right-O," the man said. "Name?"

"Patsy McQueen."

He smiled and passed a ticket to me. "Your bus leaves in five minutes. I'd get a hurry-on. Don't want to be stuck by the bathroom."

I looked over the ticket and lowered the gun. Then I flipped the man off and stood in line for the bus.

The bus was four stories high and painted hot pink, with enough lewd graffiti to keep it interesting. I followed the spiral staircase to my seat on the roof, buckled my seatbelt, and dug my purple gel pen and Hello Kitty journal out of my bag. I opened to a blank page and made a list.

TO DO:

1.) Balance checkbook. Pay utilities.

2.) Go to the country, eat a lot of peaches..

3.) Send David my deepest sympathies.

4.) Find and destroy Rhythm; Leave no peppers behind.

6.) Find Joe, tell about embryo, become family, etc., etc., etc.

7.) Find bathroom. (_Note: White Castle, The Ass-Tearer-Upper)_

8.) Send Lance Bass congratulatory email.

9.) Escort Ramona to Nice

10.) Seek ultimate revenge on Hoshi Yoshimoto

I began to doodle in the margin, considerably worried. I could be very fucked. How does one balance a checkbook? I started to add seven plus eight to get twelve when the ding-ding of the trolley woke me from my concentration.

"Whasit goonna be, lurv? A packet of roasted peanuts, a Coca-Cola? How's aboots some nice chocolaty nummyness, eh? Some meld-incha-mooth candies? Yars?" The trolley wench smiled a yellow-fanged smile and pushed the mini-pack of M&Ms into my hand.

"No, really, I couldn't," I said. "I'm pregnant. The red dye number seven might hurt my unborn child."

I placed my hand on my stomach and batted the remaining evidence of pink coconut from the SnoBalls I'd just ingested off my sweater.

"Ah, I forgot about that," Trolley Wench said. "Howsaboot a nice butter-tart?"

I didn't know what the hell a butter-tart was, but by God, I wanted one. And I wanted it _now_. I forked over a pink five-dollar-bill with Uncle Moneybags on the front and relieved the Trolley Wench of her butter-tart supply. Not bad. I washed them down with a swig of beer, lit up another Winston, and went back to my doodling.

The bus stopped and I walked off, right into the fish laden, cat piss smell that was always Paris. Yet, being spring the birds chirped happily, cats swallowed fish heads and I smiled, patting my stomach.

"Got a baby in there," I said to a smiling man selling flowers on the street corner. He smiled and handed me a huge bouquet of red, red roses.

The roses smelled like Joe. He would wake me every morning with a single rose with baby's breath and tickle me awake, then he would kiss me deeply, his eyes clouding with love.

My body warmed at the thought of Joe but my heart ached, too. I didn't know where he was and I missed him. He could be anywhere. Off on a mission saving the world, maybe in a dungeon. I didn't know. I missed him.

I tripped on a rock and went down like a sack. "Ouch!' I screamed, blood oozing from my gash. I stood up and dusted myself off and realized I needed a band aid and real quick.

"Let me help you," said a man. "My name is Mark. You look like you could use a band-aid."

Mark helped me up and we sat down on the edge of a fountain in the city square. He asked a passerby for a first aid kit and we talked while we waited.

"Oh! You're American. So nice to here the native tongue!" I said. He nodded and wrapped several layers of band-aids around my bleeding gash. It helped some, but I had discomfort.

"Actually," Marc started, "I'm Mexican. You can tell, you know, the accent and dark hair and my necklace." He lifted the gold strand around his neck, "Made in Mexico," it read.

Mental head slap. "Sorry," I said, wincing at the pain. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I have lots of friends who are from around there."

OK, this wasn't exactly true. The only friend I had from around Mexica was Ranger, and he wasn't _really_ a friend--just a guy from work.

"So Marc, whatcha doing in Paris? Going to the Louvre? I wanna go there, but I don't know where it is and this map is just so dang confusing and I really like fromage."

Marc smiled and kissed my gash before rinsing my blod off his hands in the fountain. "I'm here on business," he said. "I can't tell you any more than that. I'm on a mission for the government in Canadia."

"Ha ha," I said. "Right. So if you tell me you gotta kill me, _eh?_" I laughed but Marc didn't. He looked at me like I was strange, and then said something into his right shoe and took off.

I stared into the crowd and didn't see Mark, and wondered where he went. Confused, I lifted my four-inch heel to my ear and asked, "Hello, Mac?" When there was no answer, I shimmied back into the teal FMPs and left the fountain, heading to the nearest drug store. My gash was bleeding through those sticky little holes.

Being in France was reminding me a lot of the time I spent in Europe when I was a teen, preparing for the day I would take my place as the rightful ruler of Furuckenvaagan, a small principality nestled between Germany and Brazil. I used to walk the streets dressed in a long black cloak, pretending I was Harry Potter. I was convinced there was a magical world out there and that I would someday find it. I sighed and opened the door to the drug store, listening to the bells chinkle against the glass. _Back to reality, Steph,_ I told myself. _Get a grip._

"No bweeders awoud!" I narrowed my gaze at the man behind the counter.

"Cool it, Habib, I'll buy a Slurpee and foie gras."

"You good customer," Habib said. He went back to playing Tetris on his French Gameboy.

I picked up my Orangina Slurpee and slipped a box of Super Absorbent Tampons into my clutch and gave a finger wave to Habib.

"I send you bwill!" he called after me.

I nodded and started walking to Leon. I stopped when I reached the top of the hill and looked down at the city. Not half a mile out of Paris, and I was already out of breath. Guess I wasn't getting any younger. I shifted my pack on my back and kept on walking.

I walked about thirty-seven miles when I felt I needed a rest. The baby was doing a dance on my thorax. I sat down, burped and rested my head in the sun. A few minutes passed and I heard a croak, a croak next to me.

I glanced around. "Hello, little tree frog." I said.

"_Ba-aa-aa-abe_," the tree frog said back.

"Neat, you speak. Do tell me your name."

"Pig," he said.

"Oh, what a lovely name! Mister Pig, may I ask, because I am a foolish woman, the way to Leon? I lost my escort some time ago."

"No," the frog said. "I'm not called pig, you idiot. _You're_ a pig. Look at you, eating Twizzlers and smoking and drinking a Slurpee. You wouldn't know a balanced diet if it bit you in the ass. And no offense, sweetheart, but you gotta lot of ass to bite. _Ribbit_."

I glanced behind me, I glanced above me and I glanced underneath me, "Ranger?"

"Lick me, Steph," the frog said.

"Omigod, Ranger. I told you never to bother me here. Why are you in a frog?"

"What, you thought I'd just let you take off to fucking France, with no explanation? You're supposed to fill out paperwork and shit. Company policy."

RangerFrog stuck his big, long tongue out and caught a fly. Then he looked at me and waggled his froggy eyebrows, and I got a few ideas what I could do with that tongue. You know, if he wasn't a frog, cos that's just sick.

"Lick me, Steph," RangerFrog said again. "You know you want to."

"Ick! No! I do not want to ask my mother to burn herpes off my tongue, the last time was embarrassing enough."

RangerFrog sighed. "If you don't lick me, I can't tell which way we need to go. I can't lick myself, you know."

"Well, you can, you big liar. Remember that 'trick' you wanted to show me like three weeks ago? Man, that was gross. You totally sucked your own balls."

"I wasn't a frog then, babe," RangerFrog said. "And if you remember correctly, you sucked them, too. Now lick me."

"Fine! Fine! Fuck! Fine!" I stuck out my tongue, "LUCK!"

RangerFrog's small body quivered in my hands. "Do it again," he said, his voice thready.

I squeezed him tightly, stuck out my tongue and took a slurpy lick. RangerFrog croaked and farted a little frog fart while my hands became covered in goo.

I dropped RangerFrog on the ground and wiped the goo off my hands. Then I threw up in a hollowed-out tree stump for what felt like an hour. When I was done, I turned around to see RangerFrog, lying on his back, legs crossed in front of him, smoking one of my cigarettes.

"Doesn't count if you spit," he said, doing the eyebrow thing again. God, what was with the eyebrow thing?

"So, Ranger? What now? You gonna hop after me like a one-legged homeless circus muppet, or you gonna let me do this myself?"

Ranger uncrossed his legs, stubbed out his Winston, and hopped on top of my pack. "Go left and wake me when you get to the cherry tree."

I sighed and began my trek, RangerFrog snoring behind my left ear. I walked for six miles when I stumbled upon a field of broken wine bottles and cork screws, the cork screws protruding precariously from festering eye sockets, here and there . Beyond the oozy field stood a large cherry tree.

RangerFrog rolled off my pack onto my shoulder, and nuzzled my neck. I dropped my pack by the tree and ran my hands over the bark. A large heart was carved into the trunk, the words "WILL YOU MARRY ME?" etched inside. Near the tree, some guy's head had been shoved onto a post. His eyes had been pecked out by the weasels, and his tongue gnawed off by the shrimp. Guess the answer was _no._

RangerFrog's tongue flicked against my ear, and I batted him with my hand. His little frog body flew, hitting the cherry tree and he dropped like pigeon shit.

I stared at his nasty little body, his tiny legs spread wide. "Okay, what now? I'm at the fucking cherry tree."

His body lay limp and flaccid, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

I shook my head, picked up a stick and started poking him.

"Oi, Ranger!"

He wasn't breathing or moving or anything like that. Oh, shit. I'd killed Ranger! While he was a frog! How the fuck was I going to explain that one?

I bent down and felt for a little frog pulse, but I didn't know where a frog's pulse was supposed to be, and I was too grossed out to check most places. I pushed his tongue back in his mouth and squeezed his lips open like one of those old coin purses they used to give you at the fair, like, in the eighties, or whatever. Then I put my mouth on his and blew into it. His little frog belly inflated, and I pumped his chest with my thumbs.

"Come on, you fucking bastard," I said to Ranger, pump-pump-pumping where I thought his froggy heart might be. "You can't die on me!"

I put my mouth on his and blew into it again, and felt a rush of heat as his long frog tongue slid into my mouth, down past my tonsils, flicking across my gizzard.

I felt a bit of bile rise and I shrugged backwards, impaling my gash on a long and hard object. I began to gush once more; the bleeding fast and true. I stuck the gash in my mouth and started to suck.

"_Ba-aa-be."_ RangerFrog gave me a wink and crossed his legs.

"That was disgusting." I huffed, in between my sucking and spitting.

"Babe, that tongue of yours… _love_ it. Reminded me of that night in El Supario, when I found your third nipple. The one where I whisked you off in my jet, and you left Joe weeping and holding your panties as we drank tequila and danced the Mongo Bongo."

I spit. "That never happened."

"That was you."

"Um, no."

"Course it was."

"Nope." Spit.

"Huh."

I searched the ground for some grass and twigs and shit like that, and tapled them to my gash to help control the bleeding. Then I turned back to RangerFrog and asked, "Um, why is that black horse staring at me?"

RangerFrog looked at the horse. "Yo," he said.

The horse nodded.

I looked from RangerFrog to the horse and back again. "No fucking way," I said to him. "You brought Tank?"

RangerFrog shrugged. "Long trip. I got lonely."

I shook my head, got to my feet, and dusted my ass off. "Unbelievable," I said. "That's it. This is over. Both you bestiality freaks are gonna back off and leave me the fuck alone. I have a few things to take care of and I don't need to look like Porna McDooalot while I do them. So, get. Scat! Go!"

RangerFrog's tongue flicked at my gash.

"No! Go!"

TankHorse nuzzled my neck.

"Oh, shit. Don't do that!"

RangerFrog looked at TankHorse, and his throat bulged out in a big green bubble, and he leapt at TankHorse.

"The Babe is mine," RangerFrog said. "How"--POW!--"many"--WHAP!--"times"--ZONK!--"do"--EYE POKE!--"I"--BAM!--"have"--SLAP!--"to"--BOINK!--"tell"--PUNCH!--"you?"

TankHorse murred, a pound of hay and corn plopped from his ass. He plopped shit. He gave a bashful nod and tapped my ass with his hoof. Trotting towards RangerFrog, TankHorse narrowed his gaze.

"Man. Control yourself," he said. "I have astral-projected myself into a fucking horse, 'cause you finally dropped your left ball. But, man, you hit me one more time, I'll make sure you never get a chance to roofie Stephanie again."

RangerFrog crossed his froggy arms over his froggy chest and stuck out his bottom lip. Oh, great. Now he was brooding. I shook my head, grabbed my pack, and lit up another smoke. "It's gonna be a long trip," I said to myself, and the three of us took off in the direction of the Land of Infinite Sodomy.


End file.
